


The Sorcerer Lord of Harrenhal

by LordBlackberry



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe-Game of Thrones Setting, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter, Powerful Harry, Wealthy Harry, Wise Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:38:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordBlackberry/pseuds/LordBlackberry
Summary: After losing interest in Planet Earth after 1200 years of living on it, the Master of Death Hadrian Peverell (Harry Potter) is transported by Death to the land containing Westeros. After helping with the Targaryen invasion, Harry is awarded the lands and title of Harrenhal. Living in peace and pleasure, Harry goes about making his lands prosperous and bursting with evidence of magic. Never taking a lover Harry says that there are none in this realm who possess the beauty necessary to match him. Being very open about his homosexuality, Lords bring their sons every year to a ball held in the grand castle of Harrenhal hoping that Lord Hadrian will find them worthy and in turn lend his sizeable wealth and power to whichever family they hail from. Knowing that whichever noble house managed to ensnare the Sorcerer Lord would reign supreme all attempted to do so, and none were worthy...until Loras.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I do not possess ownership over Harry Potter or Game of Thrones nor am I receiving any monetary benefit from this work of fiction.

Ever since the Targaryen conquest of Westeros and the subsequent desolation of Harrenhal the Immortal Sorcerer Lord Hadrian Peverell had restored it to its former splendid magnificence and occupied it as liege lord. He was awarded the title and lands after he successfully aided in the Targaryen’s conquest of Westeros, particularly his single handed invasion of The Vale. Many considered him, and still do today, to be the single most powerful being south of the Wall. They were of course correct, but slightly in error when they say south of the Wall; for his hegemony stretched throughout the entire world. But this rarely manifested itself. He was satisfied to foster the beauty and prosperity of his impressive estate in the Riverlands. 

Hadrian originally came to Westeros from the Wizarding World of Planet Earth. After accidentally uniting the power of the Hallows, Harry assumed the position of Master of Death. Blessed (although it took him some time to see it as such) to wander the mortal realm for eternity, Harry studied all forms of magic imaginable and excelled in all fields and disciplines. Through his studies, which commenced after he finished grieving for the loss of his friends and loved ones, he became the single most knowledgable magic user in existence and he had the raw magical strength to utilise it. The Hallows blessed him with immortality, near omnipotence, and extraordinary magical power; as well as a strong affinity towards all things magical. After living 1200 years on earth, mastering all manner of magics, collecting all manner of items, and witnessing the doom of the human race Harry was ready to begin whatever adventure lay beyond the plane he was presently situated on. 

“Death, my dear fellow, is there some place you know of where I might seek some…change?” Harry asked, sounding light a wizened elder even though he was as youthful as he was at 17. Out of the hollow emptiness which surrounded him, Death swirled into existence clad in his smoking black robes.

“There is a world. One seemingly constantly bathed in fire and blood. So naturally, you’ll adore it. Its has no one name but the continent you will most likely concern yourself with is called Westeros” Death replied with a knowing smile. Death too occasionally felt the need to explore and venture fourth into the unknown (of course none is unknown to death, but he pretends for the sake of it). Plans were formulated and Harry commenced packing his substantial belongings, including the Elder Wand, his battle staff, the Resurrection stone (which he had placed once again on the Gaunt ring), his invisibility cloak, the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, his impressive wardrobe, his material wealth (no number could describe it), and his shrunken library and magical materials collection. Ready to depart, Harry stepped into Death’s presence and allowed himself to be phased into what remained a relatively unknown land .


	2. Vivacious Valyria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not possess ownership over Harry Potter or Game of Thrones nor am I receiving any monetary benefit from this work of fiction.

Harry landed in Valyria with an anti-climactic thud. Gazing at the bustling high medieval metropolis around him he began to absorb the knowledge of the thousands of minds in his proximity; assimilating every discernible piece of useful information with his mind. The language of High Valyrian flooded his mind, accompanied by the images of the expansive empire of the Dragonlords. Much to Harry’s pleasure, these Dragonlords seemed to possess some measure of magical talent. With a silent hurrah, Harry began to navigate the maze like streets and market places of Valyria. Walking past a particularly delightful looking ruby pendant, he conjured some of this realms currency and began to bargain with the vendor.

“How much for the pendant?” Harry asked, not necessarily concerned with the cost. “7 Zaldrīzes.” He replied eyeing Harry’s odd state of dress with suspicion. With this Harry noticed that while all those around him were styled with tunics and simple leggings, he was wearing silver and emerald robes with traditional formal wear beneath. While not particularly troubled by this difference he decided to act slightly more regal than usual. Wanting to explore this new realm further Harry paid the man without objection and wandered further into the bazaar. While not exactly tranquil, Harry could pick out the high pitched scream from the general mutterings of the hustle and bustle of city life. Looking in the screams direction, he spied a child falling from a considerable height from one of the cities many impressive towers. Reacted swiftly, his body was bathed in an arcane silver light and he transported himself to a location where he could better aid the plummeting infant. Thinking of the first thing that sprang to mind, Harry manipulated the natural mist of the atmosphere and floated up on a platform condensed fog. With relative ease Harry positioned himself where he thought the child would be in the next few seconds. He was correct. While caught up in the thrill of rescuing someone mid air, Harry failed to notice the vast proud gathering beneath him. While small displays of sorcery were commonplace among the gifted nobles of Valyria, never had they seen a foreigner perform such feats nor had they seen such a feat in itself. Gracefully levitating to the ground, he began to grow aware of the amassing crowd. Considering lightly Confounding or even Obliviating the hoard of intrigued Valyrians, he sent the boy into a dreamless sleep and lay him down onto a conjured ottoman. What happened next was wholly unexpected, even with his low level prophetic capacity. 

A man of ethereal beauty and platinum blond hair came rushing out from the towers entrance and started demanding to know where his son was. Realising that the boy was most likely the son in question Harry answered “Your son is quite alright and resting comfortably”. Gaping at the sight of his unharmed child, he walked over to this deceivingly youthful man. “How did…” he stuttered out in stark contrast to his usual self. “How did I save him? Just a small amount of magic seemed to help just fine.” Harry said with ill concealed smugness. He had grown an appreciation for wonderment and praise over the years, as he began to realise the true might of his magical prowess. “How can I ever repay you good sir? Whatever you may ask, if is within my power you may have it.” the still unknown man asked. “A name should do just fine.” Harry replied. “Aegon. Aegon Targaryen”. Harry suggested that he should escort Aegon’s son (who he now knew to be Aenys) into what he assumed was his property. They departed with shouts of praise and awe, many even considering him to be a god in human form. They were wrong, as he was just Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that a Zaldrīzes will be the highest denomination of currency in Valyria, as I could not find any alternative solution. It's High Valyrian for dragon and I thought that as they held the dragon in such high regard, their largest piece of currency would be named after it.


End file.
